On the following morning the spoils were divided; and great was the amazement of the Confederates at the richness and splendor that everywhere met their gaze. Here, piled in great heaps, was the massive plate that had adorned the Duke’s board at Treves; there stood the silver chair heavily inlaid with gold, valued at eleven thousand florins, in which he was wont to receive foreign envoys; Charles’s headpiece, and his magnificent sword set with priceless gems: all these treasures were tossed about by the rough hands of the Switzers. Curious throngs forced their way into the royal pavilion and marvelled at the costly hangings interwoven with gold and silver, upon which were depicted scenes from Roman mythology. Upon the wall gleamed Burgundy’s escutcheon, emblazoned with the cross of St. Andrew, and above it the Duke’s proud motto, “I Watch.” Watched? Aye, and lost! was but too plain.
“Who wants tin plates?” cried an honest countryman, contemptuously. “I have plenty of those at home,” and he sold the silver plates that had fallen to his share for two silver groschen apiece; while an archer proudly exhibited a shirt of mail he had just received in exchange for a jewelled diadem, saying, “What could I have done with such trumpery?”
“There you were wise, my friend,” declared the dealer, who had willingly made the trade, for the crown was worth thirty thousand thalers; “and if any others find these shining things somewhat heavy to carry, come to me. I will give you good round coin for them.”
“So? Then mayhap we may strike a bargain,” said a Strassburger. “Would ten florins be too much for these twelve bright goblets? They are much too heavy for gold, but any one not knowing would easily buy them of you for that.”
The trader weighed the cups in his hand. They might have been worth eighty marks in gold. “Truly they are heavy enough,” he said doubtfully, “and I dare not overload my cart, for who knows what profitable bargains are yet to be made? Yet I would not have your ill will, and since it is you I will do the best I can for you. Come, let us say half a guilder apiece.”
The Strassburger looked doubtfully at his companions. “If they should be gold, though—”
“Nay, be not a fool, Thomas. You are not likely to have another offer as good as that. What if they be really gold? Gold is as cheap here as hazel nuts with us at Martigny.” At this the Strassburger hesitated no longer, but gladly pocketed his six guilders, and the trader went on his way.
“’Tis like the masqueraders at carnival time,” he said to himself as he met a group of cowherds with costly garments of velvet, silk, and cloth of gold flung over their smockfrocks.
“Look at Ruodi! Is he not fine?” gleefully shouted one, pointing to the leader of the band, who wore on his head a costly cap with waving plumes, while upon his breast gleamed the gold chain of the noble order of the Golden Fleece. In another part of the camp a party of victorious Switzers quarrelled and shouted over some casks of Burgundy which they were drawing into gold and silver flagons. “Will you hold your good-for-nothing tongues or shall I read you a text?” shouted one drunken fellow, waving aloft the Duke’s own prayer-book, bound in red velvet.
“Give us a song, Werni,” cried several voices, “that will stop their noise. Come, strike up!”